Bionic Mamas

you're not losing a vagina, you're gaining a son

I Figured It Out



The reason I am a staticky ball of anxiety — like, if you turned off the light, I’m sure you could see little lightning flashes around me — isn’t that I am having cold feet about returning to the Baby Factory, per se.

It’s PTSD from that horrible postpartum appointment with Dr. Russian. I was just like this before my last lady-parts doctor’s visit too, even though nothing terrible was on the agenda. Maybe I will always be like this from now on. Fun times for my lucky readers!

I realized talking to Sugar just now that the reason I wasn’t worried about my bloodwork visit the other day but I am scared to see Dr. Baby Factory himself is that I have in my mind that he will somehow yell at me about something. What he’d have to yell at me about, I don’t know, but then, I wouldn’t have thought there was a lot it made sense to ream out a limping, anemic mother of a six-week-old for, either.

In my actual brain, I know that Dr. BF is a kind, gentle man who will may even be happy to see us and want to see a picture or two of the Bean, seeing as how he was rather small last time they were in a room together. We’ll see if I can get my viciously tense body to listen to reason, but at least my brain feels better.

7 thoughts on “I Figured It Out

  1. Grrr, Dr Russian. If she only knew the trouble she caused. Bloody woman. [Insert medieval Irish curses.]
    This time will be entirely different, honesty. Be well. Xx

  2. Oh, well that makes a lot of sense. (As well as making me furious at Dr Russian all over again). Hang in there! I suspect that as you have more doctor visits (like the one today WILL be) that don’t involve being chewed out by a jerk, your body will start to be able to relax a bit.

  3. I hope it went well! And I also hope that having a good appointment with no yelling will help your body start to overcome this response.

    (Also- holy cow the Bean is almost two! When did that happen?!)

  4. Lemme over Stateside and I will kick Dr Russian in her bitchy little uptight taint. GAH.

    Well, now you know it’s that, and that Dr effing Russian will be allowed exactly NOWHERE near you or your son, I hope you will feel calmer about seeing nice doctors who are nice and kind and nice. And not Dr Russian.

    (I swear to G*d, I will kick her. I swear. Hold my earrings).

  5. I can imagine how gratifying it is to get to the bottom of the mystery. Having said that, I am now snarling with rage at Dr. Russian again.

  6. OH! How awful. I wish I could stab her in the face. And I too hope that Dr. BF does some solid work in desensitizing you to the place.

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